A Poltergeist Is No Guest
by LoveofVelma
Summary: Third in my Lady of the Manor series. A poltergeist sets up residence in 'Green Manor' at Halloween. It's up to the gang to determine who this spectre is and how to get rid of him/her. An as yet unknown cousin holds the key to a clue from the past. Daphne must visit her past family history to ensure the future.
1. Chapter 1

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist Is No Guest

A/N: The usual disclaimer. I own nothing, if I did, Fred would have gotten his head out of the sand sooner. My thanks to my Beta, FonzFan82, for her her quick turnaround.

Chapter one: Strange Meeting

Part one

The hard work in restoring 'Green Manor' to its past glory days had been expensive but the end result united the old with the modern. From Earth toned walls complimenting thick carpeting to modern but well crafted furniture grouped around the room gave the feeling of warmth and relaxation. Black and Orange balloons floating along the ceiling with creepy crepe paper streamers heralded the Halloween season. Bowls of brightly wrapped candy stood ready to be dispensed by Fred on this first Halloween in their new home. Fred played his fingers through Daphne's red hair, watching as she studied the book of baby names propped on her expanded stomach. Her lower lip protruded as if pouting. She contemplated a name, rejected it, turned the page.

"D-day is only three weeks away, Freddie. We have to choose a girl's name." She closed the book, replacing it on the coffee table, a wedding gift from her parents, snuggling into his warm embrace.

"I have a plan." Their lips brushed, lingered. A kiss of life long friends acknowledging the love they had denied in the past.

"That's what I love about you. You always have a plan." She didn't mention that a majority of his plans didn't work, at least not as planned.

"We choose ten names at random, place them in a hat..."

"Not funny, Freddie!" She playfully slapped his shoulder and then leaned back into his embrace.

The couple were jolted from their loving repose when the antique table began to rock back and forth, slowly at first, then more violently. At times the table launched itself into the air, slamming back to earth. Unbelievably nothing fell from the twisting table.

"Freddie!" Daphne burrowed against Fred's chest, her eyes wide with fear. "Is this a 'quake?"

"I don't think so, Daphne." Fred held her close, trying to ignore the steel trap that squeezed his chest that made breathing almost impossible. Suddenly the table stopped its rocking motion, settling back on the padded carpet.

But their night of mysterious occurrences continued when a picture flew off the wall, floating as if carried by an unseen entity. It dropped on the table next to the book of names. The book opened, its pages turning faster than the eye could comprehend. Coming to the end, it started again from the front, ending on a page with a large 'C' at the top.

"Jeepers! Having my hair stand on end does nothing for my 'do." Fred agreed wholeheartedly with his wife. Four terror filled eyes turned to the door as it opened as Shaggy, Velma and Scooby entered.

"What's shaking?" Shaggy asked then stopped at the scene before him.

"Gang, I think we have a mystery on our hands." Fred shook his head in hopes of breaking the spell.

"What happened, Daphne?" Velma went to her pregnant friend. Daphne took a deep breath, trying to calm the inner trembling, releasing the breath slowly. Her voice shook as she repeated the events of the evening. Her face was ashen gray when Daphne finished her story. She picked up the picture that had been left on the table.

The door chimes rang, the first of the nights trick-or-treaters had arrived. Daphne started to rise when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Fred and Shag can handle the trick-or-treaters, Daph, you're getting some rest." Velma took the image from her, replacing it on the table. "I'll make tea."

Velma thought back to when She had first met Daphne as she waited for the water to heat. Their friendship had been slow to develop; such different personalities usually didn't get past 'hello' if they got that far. Add Fred, Shaggy and Scooby and you had a real mystery in how they had not only became friends but had stayed friends through the years.

The teapot announced the water was hot with a shrill whistle and Velma poured out. She returned to the living room in time to see Shaggy close the door on the latest trick-or-treaters. "How is it going, boys?"

"Busy." Shaggy offered, grabbing a foil wrapped chocolate from Scooby.

"Not too busy to stay out of of the candy yourself, I see." Velma indicated a spot at the corner of Shaggy's mouth. Daphne looked much better if still trembling slightly as she took the tea from Velma.

And so it went, good friends enjoying the evening, handing out treats and trying to keep Scooby away from the sweets. At eight o' clock they turned out the welcoming outside lights and collapsed, another Halloween survived until next year. Velma sat beside Daphne, holding the displaced picture.

"That was taken before we moved to Coolsville." Daphne had hardly ever talked about her life before she had shown up in Coolsville High. 'That' was a picture of a young Daphne and her parents standing at the edge of a lake. "It was the last time we went camping before Daddy invented 'Blake's Bubbles'."

"Daph," Velma spoke in a conspiratory whisper. "If all of you are in front of the camera...Who took the picture?"

The red head took the picture, staring at it a moment, "I can't remember, Velma. Why do you ask?"

"We've been friends a long time, mystery is our hobby if not business...I've got a gut feeling Fred was right, we do have a mystery and this (she pointed at the picture) is a clue."

"Velma, would you and Shaggy like to stay over for breakfast?"

"I thought you'd never ask...I'll have Shaggy get our overnight bag from the car."

They had spent the balance of the evening going through photo albums of past adventures and family outings; the disturbing events, if not forgotten were not mentioned. With hugs, the couples retired to respective bedrooms and slumber.

Part two

Snuggled spoon fashion against Fred's firm body should have seen Daphne sound asleep but her mind wouldn't stop running. Her thoughts ran in circles always returning to the picture of her parents and herself. It had been a fun camping trip, just the three of them. Her father fishing, mother reading the latest paperback and a young Daphne, in a new swimsuit bought just for this trip, swimming in the lake. Daphne had enjoyed being a normal girl with friends, a new found interest in boys, and a stay-at-home mom. They had returned home, her father discovering the secret ingredients for 'Blake's Bubbles' and with patents in hand, everything had changed.

As the money rolled in, Daphne was moved to a new girl's school; an expensive school where the blooming young lady had no friends. If that had not been enough for a girl dealing with puberty and the resulting new feelings, being pulled from comfortable surroundings and plunged head first into a strange and scary situation had left her felling ripped into two distinct persons.

"Freddie?" She turned in his arms. "There's someone or something in the house."

"Harumph, it's probably just Shaggy and Scooby in the kitchen."

"No, Freddie! It's not Shaggy or Scooby...let's go see."

"I wonder why the alarms didn't go off, Daph?" Putting on robes they met a sleepy Shaggy, Scooby and Velma in the hallway. Fred led the group toward the living room.

"He's so brave, my knight in shinning armor." Daphne whispered at Velma.

"My knight's armor may be food splattered, but he's my knight."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist is No Guest

Chapter two: Luncheon Date

The friends walked into the darkened living room. Light filtering through the open curtains made the shadows dancing across the walls look grotesque. The five separated, spreading throughout the room; the lack of any intruder was evident even before Fred flipped the light switch. Indrawn breaths were heard when the realization that certain furniture had been rearranged. A small fire in the fireplace added to the light; the coffee table, sofa and chairs had been rearranged, grouped in front of the fire.

"Velma, didn't you pull the drapes last night?" Daphne sat down on the sofa, staring at the pile of family photo albums; they had not been there the night before.

"Yes I did, Daphne, before we went to bed." Velma glanced around the room at the tidy chaos, her eyes settling on Shaggy. "And Shaggy took care of the fire."

"And I checked all the doors." Fred added, "Daphne, for your and the baby's health, I want you to stay with your parents until we can get to the bottom of this mystery."

"I think that's a good idea, Fred." Daphne picked up a framed photo, the same photo that had floated through the air the evening before. "It's too early to call them but I'll invite them for lunch."

"Too early for breakfast?" Shaggy looked yearningly at the kitchen.

**F/D**

With Daphne's pregnancy, several changes had been made. Margo, Daphne's assistant, had taken over most of the Foundation work and the day to day running of 'Green Manor'. One change had resulted from Shaggy turning into a decent cook but Fred still didn't know the difference between a tea kettle and a soup tureen so a full time cook had been hired.

The biggest change came from Daphne's parents; their outward dislike for Fred and the belief that their daughter was marrying below her social status had evolved into agreement if not full approval. The impending arrival of their first grandchild had played a large part in the acceptance of Daphne's invitation.

"Of course you can come, dear." Daphne's mother dabbed at the corners of her mouth. The empty nest syndrome had not been easy for Elizabeth Blake; she secretly looked forward to having her daughter at home again, regardless of the reason. Daphne had given a condensed version of the prior evening.

"You're the best, Mom." Daphne left the table, returning shortly with the picture that floated. "We were wondering if you knew who took this picture?"

Her mother took the offered photo, glanced at it quickly, "I don't remember, that was a long time ago. It could have been some passer by, some other camper."

"Let me see it, honey." Elizabeth handed it to George who studied the photo for several moments in silence.

"This brings back some memories." George placed the photo on the table. Memories of a slower, happier time. A time before Blake's Bubbles made it big. "Remember, Liz, we thought it was funny that two guys named George would be camping next to each other in the same campground.

"Dee, this picture was taken by 'the other George' as your mother called us. We both got lucky that day, we caught enough trout to feed both families that night. The picture was taken just before that fish fry. Why are you so interested in this old photo? You don't think 'the other George' is the one causing all this trouble?"

"Daddy, we don't know but we do think that photo is a clue." Daphne handed over an older loose snapshot. "Do you know who this couple is? It was on top of the pile of albums this morning."

George took the offered photo of a couple obviously on their wedding day; the lady standing in her Sunday go-to-meeting dress, the man sitting on a chair, wearing battered but clean pants, white shirt, and coat. The photo was yellowed with age, dogeared and faded.

"I have no idea who they are, Dee, but I may know someone who might." George sat the picture aside and smiled. "She has to be in her nineties if she's a day. I thought she was old when I was a boy."

Who, Daddy?" All eyes turned toward George. Daphne instinctively placed her hands over her stomach. "Where does she live?"

"George, are you sure? That old woman was out of her mind last time we saw her." Elizabeth reached over to squeeze her husband's hand.

"Anything would be better than what the kids are going through now." He reassured his wife, then turned his full attention to Fred and Daphne. "She's a cousin, closest thing to a Blake family historian. I'll have to draw a map, she lives off the grid as they say these days."

**F/D**

Daphne looked at the map her father had drawn before her parents had departed. "Fred, I know you wanted me to go with my parents but I think I should go with you since it is my family we'll be visiting."

"I don't like it but I have to admit it is best. This cousin will probably talk to you; I'm just the interloper that married you for your money." His lips traced the crease of hers. She had to lean forward over her protruding stomach to return the kiss.

"I think I got the better part of that deal but we really should go." Daphne pulled back, picking up her coat.

Her father had been correct, the house was 'off-the-grid'. Sitting back from what passed as a road, surrounded by trees, the little cottage would be easy to miss without a map. Fred turned off the road onto the graveled driveway; parking in front of the building he turned off the engine. They were a mere hour out of the city but they might as well have been in another country. The home, a little more than a hut, could fit in their living room plus kitchen with room left over. Fred exited the car, opening the door for Daphne.

"Doesn't look like much." Fred whispered as they walked up to the door.

"Never judge a book by its cover, darling." She whispered back, knocking on the wooden door. Daphne judged the young girl who answered her knock as being in her late twenties or maybe early thirties. Dark skirt, light blue blouse with matching sweater covered a curvacious frame.

"Yes? Can I help you?" The woman smiled, "Sorry, I was in the back."

"I...we were looking for a Mrs. Hickson, is she at home?" Daphne was taken aback at such a young woman, expecting someone in their nineties.

"By your look," the young woman laughed, "you must be looking for my mother. I'm so sorry, she died last year. Please come in, perhaps I can help you. I'm her daughter, Candice."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Daphne said as she and Fred entered the room. A cheerful fire blazed in the fireplace.

"Thank you. She had a long and extraordinary life."

"My name is Daphne Blake...Jones now. My husband, Fred."

"And how may I help you, Mrs. Jones? Please, take a seat."

"We were hoping your mother...you...could identify this couple. I found it...in a photo album I was going through." She lied, extending the photo.

"Would you like tea, I don't get many guests." Candice took the offered photo but didn't look at it.

"I'd love some if you have decaffeinated." Daphne choose a corner seat on the sofa, joined by Fred.

It took only minutes for Candice to prepare the tea; she studied the photo while sipping her tea.

"I'm sorry, I don't recognize the couple. May I keep this? I'd like to do some research. I'll return this when I have something to share with you. Perhaps as early as tomorrow."

Daphne agreed, she and Fred took their leave, making their way outside. Fred turned to look back at the cottage.

"What's wrong, Fred?" Daphne said, taking his hand.

"Look at the roof, Daphne."

"I don't see anything. Should I?"

"Candice had a nice warm fire didn't she?" Fred opened the car door for her.

"No smoke! There should be but there isn't any." Daphne got in the car but continued to stare at the bungalow.

Candice watched the twosome get into their car and drive away. She let the lace curtain fall into place, turning to refresh her tea. She took a seat at the table, dipping a biscuit into the hot tea. She picked up the photo, "So, you've come back have you?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist is No Guest

Chapter three: Cottages and Mansions

Part one

There was no electricity in the cottage and with the sun beginning to set, Candice lit a candle to dispel the deepening darkness. She glanced around the room taking note of the hanging herbs and vegetables, offering a silent prayer of thanks to her mother. It had been her mother, who, on her one-hundredth birthday, had passed the torch to her daughter. She had died at sundown on the same day. The torch was a mantle she wore proudly. She had taken all her mother had to tell, growing stronger, wiser each day, each year. Candice wasn't a witch in the traditional sense but in older days she would have suffered the same fate.

The moon was full, the air clear and crisp when she adjusted the thick shawl around her shoulder, stepping out into the night. She wasn't in the habit of helping everyone who came calling, not that their were that many. This time was different—this was family.

Candice had recognized the woman in the picture Daphne had shown her. She had said she needed time for research, a white lie. What she needed was certain herbs, picked in the light of the moon, brewed by candlelight. She had liked Mr. and Mrs. Jones and vowed to help in any way she could.

Later that night, Candice returned to the small cottage she called home. It had been a work of love but the work was completed. Time was running out and if she was to help Daphne, she needed to rest.

Tomorrow, now today she reminded herself, was going to be a long one.

Part two

Daphne had been feeling uneasy since returning home. Nothing she could actually put her finger on, more an overall sense of—doom. The word came like a tornado and wouldn't leave. At Fred's insistence, she changed into more comfortable clothes and joined Fred on the swing. It was a beautiful cool evening but his embrace and lips were warm, tender. They had spent many such evenings here, wrapped in love.

"What did you think of Candice this afternoon?" Daphne leaned back, watching his eyes. The uneasy feeling continued and Daphne hoped Fred could alleviate her fears of uncertainty.

"Pretty. The only thing that bothered me was that 'no smoke' routine. I still don't know how to explain it."

"Leave it to you to notice how pretty she was. I liked Candice but I had the feeling she was holding something back. I think she recognized that couple or at least one of them."

With the temperature dropping, they retired to their bedroom, changing into bed clothes. After the usual good night kiss, Fred had dropped into sleep almost immediately. Daphne wished she could do the same; unable to find comfort in slumber, her mind turned inward to her family. It had been agreed that she would begin her visit at Blake Mansion the next day, now later today. Seventeen days remained to D-day.

Exhausted, she cuddled into Fred's arms, finally finding relief in sleep.

Part three

George Blake had a problem: he couldn't sleep. The pain had roused him from his slumber and any further sleep was out of the question. He rubbed his chest, the food at Daphne's luncheon had been simple fare but perhaps he'd eaten more than he should have. He loved his daughter and the young lady

she had become.

He lay in bed, next to his sleeping wife, his thoughts returning to the framed photo of a weekend spent on the lake. It had been fun spending days away from work with family and new found friends. Why did it bother him? Were there any other photos of that weekend? He'd have to ask Dee.

The painful sensation radiated down his arm forcing a low moan from his throat. Frustrated, he rose from the bed, pulling on the robe he had placed on the end of the bed. It was too early for the maids or cook to be up but cook always set up coffee and tea for breakfast; he headed toward the kitchen. Half way down the hall he had to stop, breathing deeply.

A push of the 'start' button and the immediate sounds of coffee being brewed was comforting. He reached for his favorite cup when a wave of pain erupted across his shoulders, down his arm, forcing him to drop the cup which exploded into a thousand pieces. Sweeping other cups from the counter, George collapsed face up.

Alarmed at the sound of breaking porcelain Elizabeth realized her husband was no longer lying beside her. Grabbing her robe she hurried down the hall, following the origin of the sound. She came up short at the sight of George lying on his back among fragments of broken cups.

"George!" she rushed to kneel beside her husband. "What happened, darling?"

"Lizzie, I'm afraid we'll have to buy new china."

"COOK! Come quickly!" He hadn't called her 'Lizzie' since that weekend camping trip.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist is No Guest

Chapter four: A Visit to the Hospital

Part one: 2 A.M.

The insistent ringing of the phone ripped the quiet fabric of the night. It took several seconds for Daphne to climb out of her stupor and snake a hand out from under the comforter, reaching first for the alarm clock which sat with the phone on the nightstand beside her bed. Groggy with sleep, her hand rejected the clock, found the receiver and brought it the million miles to her ear. Her mind documented Fred's light snoring, filing it away as useless information. Fred was well known for his ability to fall asleep with a force 5 hurricane raging mere feet away.

"'hullo?" Still lethargic from being roused from sleep, she wondered who would be calling at this time; the bedroom curtains were still pulled, the room dark and still. Another fragment of useless information filed away.

"Daphne! I'm sorry to call so early." Her mother's voice, tired, filled with fear and worry, brought Daphne fully awake in seconds. She pulled herself into an abbreviated sitting position. She enjoyed being pregnant but there were limitations.

"Mother, slow down. Take a deep breath. What's wrong?" Sixteen more days before D-day and Daphne couldn't wait to get back to normal size. She felt like an over ripe plum some days and this was starting out as one. She heard her mother inhale, hold it for a moment, expelling it in a rush.

"It's your father, Daphne. He had a heart attack last night." The sound of tears and she could almost see her mother slumped by some desk, rubbing her forehead. "They're taking him in for surgery now."

"Don't worry, Mother, we'll be right there as soon as possible." Throwing back the covers, she shook Fred's shoulder. "Wake up, Fred. We have to get to the hospital."

"Now!? You're not due yet." Fred began changing from pajamas to casual street clothes.

"It's not me, Fred. It's Father."

"Your father is pregnant?" Fred stopped, half dressed, staring disbelievingly at Daphne.

**F/D**

The hospital waiting room was comfortably warm when Fred and Daphne entered. Sparsely occupied with families waiting any news of loved ones or just waiting. Her mother was easily spotted, the only single woman in the room. The half length mink coat was a dead give away. Daphne rebuked herself immediately for the thought. She was able to afford a mink if she wanted it, could even get a discount from her mother's furrier if she asked. That was the problem, she would have to ask.

"How is he, Mother?" Daphne hugged her mother, or better put, allowed herself to be hugged. It wasn't that she disliked her mother, just the opposite. Daphne had never been what was called a problem child but she had stretched the envelope, tested her parents patience on more than one occasion. The final straw came when she fell in love with Fred.

"I don't know, Daphne. They won't tell me anything." The tears and the fear in her voice were real. Daphne felt a stab of sympathy for her mother. She could well imagine how she would feel if it were Fred. "Would you like some tea or coffee?"

"I've had too much coffee already. Dee, I'm so frightened."

"Let's sit down. We'll wait with you."

Part two: Ten A.M.

The green scrubs were wrinkled, white mask pulled down around his neck. The man's blue eyes wandered over the waiting room, settling on the woman in a mid length mink coat. A life's work came down to this moment. One the doctor relished.

"Mrs. Blake?" A courtesy question, who else would it be?

"Yes...how is my husband?...my daughter, Daphne." Even in this stressful environment, proper etiquette must be maintained as introductions were made and acknowledged.

"He came through the surgery fine. He's resting now; you can see him after he's settled in but only one at a time and for a short time. I'll have a nurse inform you when you can see him."

More waiting. Thirty minutes later a white clad nurse's aide approached, "Mrs. Blake, please follow me."

Fred and Daphne waited for her mother's return. They had been waiting since two a. m.. Eight and a half hours of waiting; at least the doctor had said her father was doing well. The only worry now was infection. And stress. That wasn't going to easy for someone who had worked hard most of their life.

Ten minutes later Elizabeth returned, walking as if in a daze. Reaching the chair beside Daphne, her knees gave out, collapsing into the chair.

"Daphne...he wants... to sell...everything."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist is No Guest

Chapter five: The Black Tower

Part one

The old man was pale, his eyes closed in sleep. Wires threaded from his chest, connected to a rectangle device in the hospital gown pocket. A single wire ran behind his head to a monitoring station; one green line ran over the screen showing his heart beat, blood pressure and whatever else the nurses needed to be aware of. A clear tube delivered oxygen, another was attached to an I. V. line, the needle embedded on the back of the man's hand.

His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm. Being told what to expect never fully prepares one for the reality. Daphne dabbed at the tears flowing down her cheeks, feeling Fred's arm around her waist, holding her tightly. Wordlessly, she leaned into her lover's embrace, drawing strength from his nearness.

Her memories of her father was of a robust man that bounced her on his knee in younger days, built his company from inception to the million dollar empire it was today. She could only hope that he lived to bounce his grandchild on his knees. Five minutes passed quickly without her father's eyes opening. A nurse came in, ushering them out, checking the electrode's connections.

"We were just going." Fred whispered, leading Daphne from the room. Quietly, they returned to the waiting room to find several visitors had joined Elizabeth. Her mother looked haggard yet she tried to put on a pleasant smile at her daughter's arrival. Her mother looked like she had aged twenty years overnight. A bald spot peeked between once luxuriant red curls. Dark age spots had magically appeared on the back of her hands which trembled when she dabbed at the tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Father is asleep, Mother." Daphne sat beside her mother before turning her attention to the new arrivals. "Shaggy, Velma, so good of you to come. And Candice, what brings you here?"

"I went by your home, Margo told me you were here. I thought I'd drop by and return your picture. I'm sorry to hear about your father. I hope he's feeling better soon."

"Thank you." Daphne took the picture, placing it in her bag. "You didn't have to return it so soon.

"Have you had a chance to meet Shaggy and Velma? They're old childhood friends." Trembling lips released a long sigh. She sank back into the padded chair; her back hurt and the cushions helped ease the pain. "This is Candice, a cousin. Where is Scooby, Shaggy?"

"He said he'd stay in the car." Shaggy smiled, "I think he knows where the Scooby Snacks are hidden and I couldn't talk him into the seeing eye dog routine."

"Excuse me," a surprised Candice asked, "you said, 'he said'. You have a talking dog?"

"Yes but he has trouble with his 'R''s."

"Candice, did you find anything on the couple in the photo?" Daphne pulled the conversation back on topic.

"I did, indeed. It is family history, is there somewhere we can talk...in private?"

"Daddy is resting now, we can go back home. Mother, you need to eat and rest. I'll leave our home phone number so they can call if needed."

"You kids go on, I'll stay here."

"No, Mother. No arguments. If you stay, you won't eat. You can't help Daddy if you end up in hospital too." Daphne hated being the adult with her mother but she knew she was right.

"I can't wait, Cook is a master in the kitchen." Shaggy rubbed his hands in anticipation.

"What about my cooking, Shaggy?" Velma demanded, hands on hips.

"Are those two...?" Candice said as an aside to her cousin.

"Yes, but it's hard to tell sometimes." Daphne tittered. "And you can meet Scooby Doo, the leader of our little group."

"I thought I was the leader." Grumbled Fred.

Later, settled around the dinning room table, lunch spread out by Cook, Daphne turned to Candice.

"What did you find out about that couple?"

"First, have any of you heard of The Black Tower?"

Part two

"Don't look at me, Daphne. I'm a Blake only by marriage. Your father never mentioned any tower, black or otherwise." Elizabeth looked at her lunch companions. Everyone shook their heads in the negative.

Candice folded her hands, "Don't worry, no need that you should have. The story of the Black Tower begins soon after the end of the civil war. The Blake family had immigrated from Scotland with one branch settling here locally."

"Would that be about the same time many veterans were coming home?" Fred was hushed after his interruption.

"As a matter of fact, yes. In fact, one of your ancestors, the one who built this home was one of those veterans. Now, here is where the story gets interesting. Catherine Blake, at the ripe old age of sixteen fell in love and married George Bourbon."

"Not _the G_eorge Bourbon?" Fred was hushed a second time and received harsh looks from his wife and mother-in-law; the warning clear: don't interrupt again!

"They were married," Candice continued, ignoring Fred's gaffe. In a little nearby church. It appears they were very happy together. In the course of time a child was born, a girl they named Mary.

"There were no newspapers in the village but there were in some surrounding towns. The wedding was reported in several papers."

"What about the Black Tower? Where does it come in?" Shaggy and Velma had remained silent until now.

"Most of the village was at the church one Sunday. There was a fire, it was reported that it was an accident from the many candles. It was a wood structure with only one door. Four villagers lost their lives including Catherine. It's unclear if Mary was one of the victims or one of the survivors. One paper reported she was taken in by relatives, grew up, married, and lived here until she died of old age. Another report said she returned to Scotland when she was old enough. A third said she died in the fire.

"The only thing left of the church was the bell tower. The Black Tower as it became to be known."

"Jeepers! You think this Catherine is our poltergeist? But why?"

"Daphne, I think it's a strong possibility. I am sure it's either Catherine or Mary. From what you shared, all the activity has been centered around family. The picture you said floated off the wall was a photo of a family, father, mother, daughter. The photo you gave me was George and Catherine on their wedding day; again, father, mother. I'm not saying it's not George but poltergeists are usually female, rarely male. Besides, if it were George, the activity would be more aggressive; what you've experienced has been passive in nature.

"It's my feeling that either Catherine or Mary is reaching out to you, Daphne, for three reasons. One, you are the only true Blake living in their home. Two, you are a direct descendant of Catherine."

"And the third reason?" Daphne felt she didn't want to know.

"Is George buried nearby?" Candice asked, looking at each person in turn. The averted eyes gave her the answer she sought. "Whether it's Catherine or Mary, they want to be reunited as a family."

"And I'm elected to do the impossible?" Daphne really didn't need this right now. Not with the baby due in just over two weeks.

"Yes, but maybe I can help. I have a plan."

"Come on! That's my line. You keep stealing my lines." Fred got up, moving to stand behind Daphne. "Here's one you can't steal: guys, we need to split up and look for clues."

"It may come to that. The church stood in the original graveyard. We have to find the ruins."

"Why does it have to be a graveyard?" Shaggy demanded. "Why can't it be in a hamburger joint?"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Lady of the Manor: a Poltergeist Is No Guest

Chapter six: Some Place In Time

Part one, Green Manor, Sunday morning, 2 a. m., 1867

_Flashback_

"_She's as beautiful as her mother." George Bourbon lay watching his wife breast feeding their daughter. Catherine brushed a strand of her shoulder length hair from her face._

"_You're just jealous." Catherine smiled, dropping her eyes to the babe. "But she is good-looking, I agree."_

"_I only speak the truth." Her lips were full, responding to the pressure of his lips against hers._

"_None of that, George. We need to get some sleep; I want to see the new window you and the men put in yesterday. What does it look like?"_

"_You know I can't tell you anything about the window, Cathy. My lips are sealed; we want it to be a surprise."_

"_You men and your surprises! Let me put Mary in her crib; then maybe we can get some sleep." His eyes followed her as she placed the baby in her crib, turning back to the bed, her plain cotton night gown floated to the wooded floor._

"_Now, about that window..."_

_End Flashback_

Part two: Green Manor, Present day

After pushing her lunch around her plate, both Elizabeth and the food looked worn out. A phone call to her chauffeur and within a half hour was whisked away to visit George in the hospital. Curtis, the chauffeur, being the consummate professional driver, pulled smoothly to a stop in front of the hospital.

Entering the hospital, she felt like the proverbial rug had been pulled out from under her feet. George had been the center of her life since before their engagement. She had been ecstatic when he had slipped the ring on her finger, promising to be a good wife and mother. Was it only a few hours ago that her life had been turned upside down?

Meanwhile, Daphne had waited for her mother to leave and lunch to be cleared before she invited her guests to finish their tea in the living room. Once everyone was comfortable, she took Fred's hand and turned her attention to Candice.

"You mentioned a plan, what exactly is the plan."

"I have a gift, a curse some would say. In the time of the Salem witch trials anyone found with this gift would have been burned at the stake.

"This gift can help you but it comes with a price: it takes a lot of energy. I can look back in time but I need a starting point. That is why we need to find the ruins of the church; that will be our opening. There are rules you need to know. First and foremost, whatever happened occurred a hundred and fifty years ago. You can't change history so don't try."

"Wait just a minute!" Velma broke into the narrative. "You changed from 'we need' to 'you need'. What are you not telling us?"

"Velma, I can't look back in history and go back at the same time. We need to find the ruins but Daphne has to go back..."

"To some where in time? She can't, she's pregnant." Fred jumped up. "She's not going anywhere!"

"Sit down, Fred. You're embarrassing me." Fred sat but didn't like the sound of Candice's plan.

"Not some where in time, Fred. Some _place_. We can try but I think your poltergeist wants Daphne."

"You said rules but you've only mentioned one. What else do we need to know." Daphne didn't like this plan but she wanted the ghost gone more.

"I can hold the image for only a short time. We have to find out what happened to Catherine and Mary but you only have fifteen minutes."

"Then I need a trip to the library." Velma exclaimed, "it will have a history of the area."

The boom of thunder in the distance heralded an approaching storm. It was going to be a dark and stormy night.

Part three: Sunday morning, 1867

_Flashback_

_The horses pranced proudly in front of the carriage carrying the Bourbon family. Dressed in her finest Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, Catherine pulled her lap robe closer, covering Mary. She shuddered at the loud sound of distant thunder. Her mind told her there was nothing to fear but she couldn't stop the __shiver that ran its cold fingers down her back._

"_I hope the storm holds off till after service." She enjoyed the Sunday services. The pastor was old and set in his ways but he was also warm and caring. What she was really concerned about was the baby. Mary didn't need to be getting sick from being out in the coming wet weather._

"_I'm sure it will." George could always calm her fears...except today. "Just wait till you see the window. It's the best Pennsylvania glass and the art work can't be surpassed."_

_She understood what he meant when they arrived. The stained glass gleamed in the sunlight, making the image appear alive. It wasn't the male figure that caught Catherine's attention, it was the tiny bumblebees floating above a hedging of Jasmine. _

_End Flashback_

Part four: Afternoon, Coolsville library, Present time

The library was brightly lit and the librarian welcomed Velma as an old friend. "How can I help you today, Velma?"

"We're interested in the history of this area post Civil War, say eighteen-sixty-five to seventy."

"One of your mysteries, eh? What specifically are you looking for?"

"We're looking for the original graveyard."

"See Martha, she should be able to help you."

Martha, gray haired and still slim in spite of her years, welcomed them to the reference room. Her Inner Sanctum as she liked to call it. Velma blushed, thinking back over the years to a particular boy; for here in this very room had been the setting for her first real kiss. It had not been a particularly good or memorable kiss. Perhaps it was high expectations meeting inexperience on both sides that doomed the experimental kiss to failure but failure it had been.

"Hi, Martha," Velma pushed the memory of the unsuccessful kiss away. She and Shaggy had been a couple for some time now; he might have his faults but there was no denying the fact that he knew how to kiss. "We're looking for some ancient history. The original graveyard that may have had a church."

"Most graveyards did have a church. Some homes, like 'Green Manor'," here she nodded her head at Fred and Daphne, "only had a small chapel. How ancient are we talking?"

"I'm guessing eighteen-sixty-five to seventy to begin with." Velma postulated.

"You know your city history enough to know it was moved in eighteen-sixty-eight. There is the oldest church in town down on 'M' street. Could that be the one you're looking for? It has a small graveyard."

"Could be." Velma couldn't afford to leave any rock unturned. "I remember reading about Coolsville being moved to its current location. Would a fire be the cause of the move?"

"A fire, you say? No, it wouldn't be that church...wait...I may have something for you." Martha moved between the racks, her fingers tracing a line over the spines. She selected one book then another.

"That church on 'M' was rebuilt after it burned the year before." Martha selected a table, spreading the books out. "Here..."

It was only a couple of paragraphs but enough for Velma to know she had found their target. The second book included a map. Returning to 'Green Haven', it took longer to convince the others to check out the burned out church than it had been to find the information. A half hour later the Mystery Machine was crawling through city traffic. Sheet lightning lit up the darkening sky; large raindrops splashed against the windshield.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist Is No Guest

Chapter seven: A Dark Night's Tale

Part one

"Turn right at the next intersection, Fred." Velma had taken the place of navigator, sitting with Fred and Daphne on the front seat while Candice, Shaggy and Scooby pretended to be comfortable in the back. A bolt of lightning lit the clouds above; their faces illuminated in sharp relief. Fred switched on the turn signal, slowing as he moved into the turn lane. It was mid-afternoon but the dark, storm filled clouds made it appear like twilight. Only Velma's voice broke the silence that had permeated the van since they began this journey.

"Stay on this road about a mile, whatever is left should be on the right."

The lot looked vacant and neglected through the rain splattered windshield. The unattended appearance did nothing to negate the uneasy feelings inside the van. Daphne felt a chill creep up her spine in spite of the hum of the car's heater. They had been on many adventures, why did this one feel different?

No one spoke, no command given; Fred was the first to open his door, the others following suit. They gathered at the rear of the van, Shaggy handing out high beam lanterns. Top of the line, the shafts of light cut a path across the road before being swallowed by the storm induced twilight. They knew what to look for, something, anything to indicate they were in the right place. Stretched across the face of the vacant lot, they began their search.

Progress was slow, painstakingly so. After the fire, the ruins were razed, cleared and discarded. Every inch had to be gone over and inspected in minute detail. They had traversed only a short way when Velma knelt, picking up a shard of glass. The fragment was of the best Pennsylvania stained glass; an image of a small bee hovering over a white flute shaped flower.

"It's a Cestrum Nocturnum. We have arrived."

"Can you speak English for the rest of us, Velma?" Shaggy laughed, reaching out to help her up. Their embrace was short, touching, ending as soon as it began.

"It's night blooming Jasmine," Velma continued. "The flowers open only at night; the strong scent draws the nocturnal insects."

"Finally, we get to split up and I have the perfect trap in mind." Fred was near jumping with joy.

"Hate to rain on your parade, Fred, but what exactly are you going to capture?" Daphne raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Come on Scoob, while they try to figure out how to detain a ghost, we'll take the scary route; we always do anyway." Shaggy and Scooby started to walk away.

"Not so fast, Shaggy." Candice lifted one arm, stopping Shaggy and Scooby in mid-step. "You don't have to split up and no, you and Scooby do not have to be live bait."

"No splitting up, no live bait? We could get used to that, huh, Scoob? I wish all our adventures could be like this!"

"Be careful what you wish for, Shaggy. By this nights end, being live bait may not sound too bad."

The air shimmered, the new wood building wavered then became solid. The bell tower rose proudly, the sweet sound of the bell called the believers to worship. "Remember the rules, fifteen minutes. GO!"

"Daphne, remember that movie, "Scrooge", we watch every year?"

"I remember, Fred. Scrooge meets the Spirit of Christmas past and they go back in time. So?"

"I think we're about to be Scrooged."

"Jinkies! I've got a bad feeling about this. Something is wrong." Velma held Shaggy's hand tightly.

Holding hands, Mystery Inc. crossed the threshold into the church and into a mystery that would haunt their lives forever.

Part two

The place of worship had begun with a few people gathering in homes. Monies had been collected until enough had been gathered to buy land and lumber. One of the parishioners donated the land, the lumber was bought from a lumberman with a view for profit. This gentleman had the proper woods fresh from the surrounding forest. The unfinished trees should sit for a year for seasoning; an offer at a reduced rate placed a sizable profit in his deep pockets.

The sweet scent of Jasmine was thick in the air as the five friends surveyed the interior of the modest dwelling. Located on the edge of the growing village that soon would have to be declared a town, it reflected the class distinctions of the times. This was no where more obvious than the groupings of the ladies and gentlemen that gathered throughout the room; the men discussing business in their 'Sunday suits' while the women collected together to share gossip and the latest fashions and who was wearing what. A third distinction, the young mothers with babes, these were positioned toward the back near a separate room used when the babies became restless or needed to be nursed.

"Don't even think about it, Fred." Daphne caught his arm, "this may be a hundred and fifty years in our past but there is a reason why it's called a nursery. You and Shaggy locate George, Velma and I will look for Catherine."

A flash of lightning washed the dark skies and all eyes flew upward then to the oversized stained glass window. The following clap of thunder slashed through any and all classes. The preacher used the ensuing silence as the perfect time to call the Sunday meeting to order. The sound of swishing silken dresses and undergarments was paramount as the congregation moved to personalized pews. Each pew had been bought and paid for by families or in some cases poor families going in together to guarantee a place to sit during service.

"Velma, you said you felt something was wrong. What is it?" Daphne pointed at a young woman moving toward the nursery. "That's her."

"It's that window, Daphne. Cestrum Nocturnum only blooms at night, bees don't fly at night yet there they are in that fancy glass, together, doing what nature never intended."

Fire needs three elements to begin and continue. Fuel, provided by the wooden structure, oxygen, and the last, heat, supplied by a bolt of lightning caused an explosion that rocked the building and ripped a gaping hole in the roof. Within seconds the trapped sap in the unseasoned wood began to bubble, feeding the quickly growing fire. Smoke started filling the room below.

"Fire!" An unknown man screamed. Other screams were heard as people rushed toward the door. Try as

they might the door wouldn't open; burning sap dropped down on the milling people, turning their bodies to fiery torches. Young women ran from the nursery, hurriedly buttoning blouses, holding their babies to their chests.

"George!" The group of friends watched as Catherine looked frantically for her husband. "The window!"

The fire had drawn the air from the room, creating a vacuum of sorts. The window held as long as it could but the fire couldn't be denied; it exploded inward, showering the congregation with sharp shards of glass.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist Is No Guest

Chapter eight: The Shadow of Death

Part one

Fred and Shaggy spotted George sitting at the end of the pew, waiting for Catherine to return. Like most of the men, George looked relaxed, legs stretched out, thinking of a delicious lunch waiting after services. After a week of hard work, Sunday was regarded as a day of rest and everyone would take full advantage.

With the first crackle of lightning and the following explosion, George was the first to respond, moving quickly to locate his wife coming out of the nursery. At her warning scream he stepped in front of her her, protecting her from the exploding window, his coat taking the blunt of the discharge.

Taking her hand he led her to the window throwing the ripped coat over the windowsill, reaching back to take Mary from Catherine's arms. Placing Mary on the ground a safe distance away from the flames, George turned his attention back to saving his wife.

The five could only watch in horror as Catherine was shoved roughly aside, "That baby should have been mine!"

"I'll save you, Sweetheart!" George screamed as he watched the two women fighting, rolling on the floor. He raced to the door, flinging it open only to be pushed back by the flood of humanity trying to get out of the burning building.

The influx of fresh oxygen feeding the flames caused another explosion as yellow tongues of fire swept through the room, engulfing the building. George climbed to his knees but could only watch helplessly as the bell tower came crashing down, collapsing the walls and sending blazing sparks high into the air.

"Catherine!" He yelled over the sickening screams and crumbling structure. The rains began then but too little too late.

The image fluttered, dimmed as Candice approached, "Time is running out, I must hurry. May I use your light?" Taking Daphne's light she walked away and disappeared into the flames.

"I've seen enough, let's get back home." Fred started walking toward the van.

"Freddie, what about Candice?" Daphne asked, "We can't just leave her."

"Daph, I've been a fool. I know the secret now but I should have seen it earlier; I'll explain later."

"I hope you do, Fred." Velma mumbled, "I'm the smart one, and I have no clue what's going on."

"Join the club, Velma." Shaggy took her hand, brushing her lips with an assurance he didn't feel.

The paradigm dimmed into the ether, disappearing completely back into the past from which it had came.

Part two

"Thank you, Margo. Freddie, what did you mean about Candice?" Daphne accepted a cup of tea from her personal assistant. The trip home had been made in retaliative silence as each of them tried to make sense of what they had so recently observed.

"Remember when we visited Candice? I called your attention to several facts, the most obvious one was when we left there was no smoke coming from the chimney even though we had sat before a fire place drinking tea?"

"If there was no Candice, where were we and who were we talking to?"

"Candice and Catherine are the same entity." Fred began, "I think if we tried to find that cottage all we would find would be a clearing, in the spring it will be filled with wildflowers. Catherine has been reaching out to your family for help for over one-hundred fifty years; like any mother she wants her family together. When questions began to be asked, she reverted to the Candice personality. Second, that cottage was so much bigger on the inside than outside; it was like a whole house inside."

"But why us, Freddie? Will this be the end?"

Fred sighed, "Family was very important back then. The war had split families apart, fathers against sons, brother against brother. She's reaching out to you, Daph, because you are family and you're expecting and we do solve mysteries.

"I don't think this will end until we bring the mystery to a close. Also, I think there are two entities at work here."

"Mary! But the reports said Catherine's body was never found. And we don't know what happened to Mary."

"Daph, we may never know all the answers after a hundred and fifty years but the most logical reason why her body was never found is: it wasn't there when the rubble was searched."

"But who...George! Of course, he could have removed her body...but why?" Velma snuggled closer to Shaggy who placed his arm around her shoulder.

"Revenge, most likely. He probably felt the people were the cause of her death. George saved a lot of people that day by his actions but lost the one he loved. He may have had second thoughts later and buried her in the church yard but not in the existing graveyard.

"Mary didn't perish in the fire but her lungs were probably damaged by the heat and smoke, she would have been a sickly child, I'm betting that when we find Catherine we will find Mary buried with her mother or close by.

"Tomorrow, we need to split up. Daphne and Velma, try to find out who owns the lot now. We'll need permission to search for their bodies. Shaggy, Scooby and I will attempt to locate where to dig. Shaggy, we'll need a metal detector."

Part three

After a night of restful and uneventful sleep a shower and delicious breakfast was in order. With Fred, Scooby and Shaggy off to find a device to detect metal, Daphne and Velma headed for the county court house and land deeds in particular. A bouquet of old books welcomed them to the ancient file room. They found the search to be a lot like peeling an onion, peel back one layer only to find another and then another.

An hour had passed and no clue had been found as far as who now owned the vacant land. Beginning approximately six months after the fire newspaper articles began appearing of unusual occurrences especially when a potential buyer was present. According to one such piece, the wife, accompanying her husband on a buying trip complained of her hair being tugged with no one close by. Normally no one would listen to such ravings but she also said she felt her 'tummy' (her word) being rubbed; three weeks later she was pregnant.

Velma stretched her arms above her head, lowering them down behind her head as far as possible.

"Enough!" She dropped into a very uncomfortable plastic chair. "The only thing we know for sure is the place is haunted—which we already suspected. I need a break...and you look like you do too."

"I do? It's this dress! It makes me look fat doesn't it?"

"You're pregnant, not fat. There is a difference."

"You're right, about the dress and needing a break. You're worried about Shaggy aren't you?"

"No! Well, maybe a little. You know his aversion to graveyards. Besides, I think we need to take a look at this problem from a different point of view."

Part four

"Fred, how come we split up this way? You normally split up with Daph. The only time we split up together didn't end well."

"The girls are better with books. Question, Shaggy, where would you better be, out here in the open or stuck in a library room at city hall?"

"Neither, I'd rather be at an all you can eat buffet."

"Ro Rould Ri. Rnow Ra Rlace?"

"Later, Shaggy. Now, we need to find a skeleton or two."

"Reletons?" The noise from Scooby's knees banging together was deafening.

And just how are we going to find these skeletons?"

"The metal detector should help us locate Catherine but we still have to wait for permission to dig. That's why Scooby is here, we can't help it if a stray dog decides to dig, can we?"

"Fred, that's going to take a lot of Scooby Snacks!"

"It'll have to be an I. O. U., or wait for Velma and Daphne."

With the business of just how many boxes of Scooby Snacks would be involved, the guys found the metal detector as big a hindrance as it was a help; every scrap of metal caused the alarm to sound, these were quickly disposed of. It was slow, tedious work but the search continued until the alarm sounded with no visible metal in sight to account for the alert. A section was marked off and it was Scooby's turn to earn the promised treats.

**f/d**

"Here come the girls, Fred. Better stop them." Shaggy took a last look into the hole Scooby had excavated. A very small skull with empty eye sockets stared back. "I hope they brought food."

"How can you even think of food at a time like this?" He looked up to see Daphne walking toward them. "But I think you're right."

"Fred! Velma found who owns this lot and we explained our mystery and..." She was interrupted by Fred drawing her into a hug.

"Better not go any further, Daph, not in your condition."

"You found them? We'll have to contact the local police."

"Yes," Fred replied, "both of them."

He held up a modern lamp. The shadow of death had reached through time and space for one-hundred fifty years; it was hoped by all that closure and peace would soon be found for Catherine and Mary.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Lady of the Manor: A Poltergeist Is No Guest

Chapter nine: The New CEO

Part one

The days, weeks, months following following the discovery of the impromptu burial sites were busy ones for Mystery Inc. and Fred and Daphne in particular. First, the local authorities arrived with all the equipment for a crime scene investigation although no punishable crime had been committed. Yellow tape with "Crime Scene Do Not Cross" printed in black was stretched around the lot; Mystery Inc. was politely asked to leave. No questions were allowed. The police went about excavating the two skeletons sitting in decomposing coffins.

Second, Daphne was transported to the hospital two days before her due date with painful contractions that were coming closer together. Parents were called, the visiting room was crowded and nerves were on edge. Four hours later Mary Catherine Jones made her appearance: strawberry blond, blue eyes with green specks, weighing in at seven pounds, four ounces.

Two days later, with mommy and baby home, the door chimes rang at 'Green Manor'. With Daphne recovering from the delivery, a maid, Donna by name, had been added to the household. Donna answered the door, taking Daphne's father's hat and coat, announcing that The lady of the manor was in the nursery.

"Daddy, so good for you to come. Would you like to hold your granddaughter?" Daphne beamed.

"Of course, if you don't think I'll drop so precious a bundle." He took Mary, holding her closely. "Dee, we need to talk..."

Part two

_Two months later..._

The man sat on the ground leaning against a tree, fishing equipment lay near by. He was tall, good looking and relatively healthy for a man his age. He listened to the waves lapping at the lake shore only a few feet from his weatherproof boots. It was a restful sound that accompanied the nightly chorus of insects.

He took a deep breath, savoring the many smells, releasing the breath slowly. A glance to the side reassured him that Elizabeth was still asleep. She had been spoiled from the day of their wedding; today she had probably expected a five-star hotel, not falling asleep on damp grass while he waited for the first rays of a new day's sun.

It had taken two months to process the paperwork to allow this moment to exist. Holding his weight on one elbow he leaned over to kiss her lips. She returned the pressure, "I was wondering if you'd kiss me good morning...thank you."

"For a morning kiss?" He gathered her into a passionate kiss.

"Of course not, George, thank you for what's about to happen."

When the sun topped the horizon and its rays danced across the lake's rippling surface, he rose collecting his rod and reel. A moment to attach hook, bait and floater, a flick of the wrist and the red and white float bobbed on the surface.

"Do you think you did the right thing...you know." She came up beside him, pulling her coat close to hold the cold morning air at bay.

"Oh, yes, Elizabeth. It's her time, she'll do fine."

Part three

_Later that same night_

The board room was an extension of everything male. Large pictures of previous board members and the only C. E. O. the company had ever known adorned dark paneled walls. Seven men sat around an oversized circular oak table in real leather stuffed chairs. One empty chair remained at the 'head' of the

table. Eight yellow legal pads and glasses of iced water had been laid out in front of each chair. There had never been a woman on the board – until now.

"What do you think about this new C. E. O.?" One man asked the group in general.

"I've seen her around, she's heavy into mysteries I understand," another man answered, straightening his tie.

"And married, with a child, Charlie." Another man added. As if on cue the paneled door opened five minutes early and a pretty red head entered the room.

"Gentlemen, welcome. To begin, thank you for helping make this transition a smooth one. And thank you for all the cards while daddy was in hospital. Before we begin...

"Some of you have seen me around the complex, I've been taking a tour of sorts. I've talked to Research and Development and Sales mainly. Our advertising is outdated. We are on the verge of a new century, which will bring changes. We need to prepare now to meet those challenges.

"First will be a change in advertising. We will begin a search for a new 'face' immediately. We have been focusing on the older generation which we will continue but I have challenged our research and development department to come up with three new lines that focus on the younger generation.

"Second, sales have become stagnated; this cannot be allowed to continue. I am a firm believer in team work, therefore, sales, advertising and research departments will meet at least once a month to discuss new ideas in addition to each department meeting.

"Third, I don't see any women around this table. I find that interesting since our products are for women. I would like to see at least three women on this board at our next meeting.

"I think that should be enough for you to think about for now." Daphne sat down, "I call this board meeting to order..."

Part four

_Two weeks after the board meeting_

It had taken two and a half months of red tape to get the skeletons extracted, legal ramifications cleared and final clearance for burial. Another hurdle was getting permission to have the bodies buried at Green Manor rather than the church or the old graveyard.

The day dawned with a gray misty fog blanketing the land. Two graves had been prepared, two coffins, one normal size and one child size lay beside the holes. With no immediate family or friends present for Catherine or Mary the graveside contingent consisted of one pastor and Mystery Inc.. A somber crowd indeed watched as Fred and Shaggy lowered the larger coffin then the smaller one into the ground. With gravestones in place to mark the final resting place of all three of the Bourbon family, the gang and pastor headed back toward Green Manor for tea.

"Fog isn't that unusual," Velma remarked, "it's weird to be so cold and stay around this long."

"I'll keep you warm." Shaggy wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close.

"Later, Romeo." She whispered, "when we're alone."

There was a last surprise for all when they entered the spacious home. All the pictures had been removed from the walls, smaller photos had been laid out on the coffee table to tell a message. The message read:

"Thank You"

THE END


End file.
